


No More Trips

by skyenapped



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Separation Anxiety, literally just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 21:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5981971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyenapped/pseuds/skyenapped
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike burrowed his face into Harvey’s neck and sighed, like it was Christmas morning, like everything he’d ever worried about was a joke, like he couldn’t even concoct a single problem in his head if he tried because Harvey was here now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No More Trips

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this months ago and thought i'd post something happy for a change!

 *

Harvey’s condo was eerily silent, had been for four days now. In an effort to feel less alone – and less creeped out – Mike had the TV on, volume up. His cell phone on the cushion beside him. Textbooks on the coffee table, long-since abandoned ever since his eyes started going all blurry about two hours ago. It was Friday anyway – homework could wait.

Two more days. Harvey would be home in two days; just enough time to slip into bed and then back out Monday morning to live at Pearson Specter for fourteen hours. They were short a partner these days, and Jessica was in no rush to replace them with some random Joe. She and Harvey and Louis picked up the slack.

Mike understood this – hell, he’d worked there for two years before Harvey pulled some strings to get him back into school. Some days, he missed being a lawyer so much it ached in an almost physical sense. But ultimately, he was grateful. He and Harvey were both out of the line of fire. Fraud was in his past. And he could finally finish college, which was something he’d always wanted.

He was content. He was happy. He was _married._

Yeah, that hadn’t completely sunken in yet. It’d only been six months after all. Some mornings he woke up staring at the gold band on his finger, grinning like an idiot. And then he could smell coffee and pancakes drifting in from the kitchen and Harvey was in boxers making breakfast and Mike just stood and watched, one hand in a fist by his side like he was physically clinging to his new reality in fear of it slipping away.

Their marriage was the perfect cohesion. Power dynamics had faded, Mike’s secret no longer lingered above them. They were partners. Newlyweds, still, and absolutely inseparable. Outside of work and school, they were always together – and stronger for it.

But the past eight weeks of Harvey spending all day at work and two to three or four nights out of the city at various meetings was torture. Mike was lonely, and restless, and it gave him uncomfortable thoughts about Harvey having an accident and never coming home.

His feet were curled up under him, but they still twitched in unconscious fear.

The first couple trips, Mike had called him every hour on the hour, when he wasn’t in school. He texted him. Things like, _I love you. I miss you._ Harvey always texted back right away, _I love you too, rookie. I miss you more. Almost home._

A couple trips became a couple more and, knowing Harvey was busy, Mike backed off.

But now, at eleven-forty two on a Friday night, four days since he’d kissed his husband, four nights he’d spent tossing and turning in an empty bed, and Mike was helpless to resist picking up his phone.

His fingers hovered over the screen and then, _It sucks here without you._

He hit send. Typed again, _When you come back can we go see the new Superman movie?_

Deleted it.

Random shit that he knew Harvey knew could just as easily be asked in person in two days.

 _I got an A on my midterm._ Delete. He just had to see it; just had to write it.

_I know you told me not but I totally fed that stray cat outside the building._

_I don’t really see why we can’t bring it in._

_I mean it’s obviously cold and hungry._

_And lonely._

_So am I._

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck._

He considered sending that last one. Harvey would understand; the frustration would bleed right through his screen.

Mike almost hit the button, but then there was a key in the door, and he was jumping in his seat a little bit, heartbeat not slowing until he realized who it was.

“What—?”

Harvey was putting his briefcase on the counter, smirk planted on his face. “Wrapped things up with the client last night. Thought I’d surprise you.” He held out his hands, looking executively pleased with himself.

It took Mike nearly a full minute to process, but then he was up, off the couch, bare feet padding across the floor as he ran – _literally ran –_ to close the short distance between them. He threw his arms around Harvey’s shoulders, pushed off of his toes and _jumped,_ knowing Harvey would catch him with one strong arm under his butt, one slung around his waist.

And Mike burrowed his face into Harvey’s neck and sighed, like it was Christmas morning, like everything he’d ever worried about was a joke, like he couldn’t even concoct a single problem in his head if he tried because Harvey was here now.

His husband was _home._

“Love you,” he breathed into Harvey’s suit.

Harvey moved one hand up Mike’s back to run it through tousled blonde hair and hummed. “Thought you might be asleep.”

Mike shook his head, but didn’t lift it from where it was nestled against Harvey’s shoulder. “Uh uh. Can’t sleep when you’re gone.”

“Sorry,” Harvey told him, nails dragging gently over Mike’s scalp. “Here now. Okay?”

Eventually, Mike sat back on Harvey’s arm, his legs still wound comfortably around his hips. “Okay,” he said, and leaned in to kiss him urgently on the mouth, coming up for air only to add, “But don’t leave anymore, please.”

“I don’t intend to. Jessica just promoted Clark to senior partner. He’ll be taking some of the weight of this case off the rest of us. And, he likes to travel.”

“So…you’re really not…you’re not gonna be going out of town all the time?”

“I’m gonna be wherever you are, rookie.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Mike held up his hand in front of Harvey’s face. “Pinky promise.”

“Seriously?” Harvey rolled his eyes, but indulged Mike anyway. “Alright, pinky promise.”

Satisfied, Mike purred against his mouth and pressed their foreheads together. “You’re tired,” he observed, noting the tinge of red in Harvey’s eyes and telltale signs of fatigue on the older man’s face.

“Yeah,” Harvey admitted with a sigh, his shoulders sagging a bit. He still held Mike up effortlessly. “Jet lag.”

“Let’s go to bed,” Mike suggested.

“I like the sound of that, kid. But I gotta eat something first.”

“There’s pizza in the fridge.”

“Pizza?” Harvey raised an eyebrow. “Again?”

“What? I can’t cook.”

“Yeah, no kidding. It’s all you eat when I’m gone. Gonna have to start feeding you real food again.”

Mike frowned exaggeratedly. “Pizza _is_ real food,” he insisted, and when Harvey scowled he added, “What? It has like, all of the food groups…”

“Ridiculous,” Harvey muttered, hoisting Mike up a little to keep his grip. “So, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say I have to get this so-called real food without putting you down?”

“Yup.”

“Hm. I do like a challenge.”

“Or you can just put me on the bed first.”

Harvey pretended to mull it over and then shrugged, eventually heading to their bedroom. “I suppose I can do that.”

He gently deposited Mike into the blankets, watching him roll back and exhale contentedly.

“Back in five, okay?”

“‘Kay.”

“Need anything?”

“Water.”

“You got it.” Harvey headed for the door, and then stopped and turned around. “Anything else?”

Mike just rolled onto his side, head pressed into a pillow, and shrugged. “Just you,” he said.

After giving him a wink, Harvey disappeared from the room, leaving Mike to smile blissfully at the space where he’d stood. Eventually, Mike fished the remote from off of the bedside table, channel surfing and smiling every time he could heard Harvey shuffling around in the kitchen. It was that kind of white noise that comforted him; the kind that reminded him he wasn’t alone anymore.

When Harvey finally returned, his mouth was half full of pizza, he had a plate in one hand, and was skillfully undoing his tie with the other. He approached the bed, making a _move over_ gesture with his hand, and Mike slid to his own side of the bed.

“What are we watching?” Harvey asked, the words coming out garbled and making Mike giggle.

“Whatever you want.”

Stashing his plate on the table, Harvey unfastened his pants and let them fall to the floor. He gazed down at Mike in mock surprised before crawling in beside him. “Since when do I get to man the remote?”

Mike shrugged, giving Harvey only just enough time to get under the covers before he was plastering himself against his body. “Since I decided to be generous,” he replied. He knew full well that Harvey enjoyed letting him do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted, including deciding what movies to pick. And it all worked out anyway since Harvey (almost) always – and sometimes secretly – agreed with Mike’s choices anyway.

“Alright then.” Harvey tugged the remote from Mike’s hand and pretended to think very carefully about the decision.

Meanwhile, Mike slipped his arm around Harvey’s chest and rested his head on his shoulder. “So you really don’t have any more trips you have to go on?” he asked, a little nervous, a lot hopeful. He knew how fast things could change at the firm. “Like…I mean, there’s no where you have to be?”

For a few seconds, Harvey didn’t answer, just covered Mike’s hand with his own and leisurely scanned through the Netflix menu. Then, softly, “I am where I need to be.”

Mike sighed contentedly, drawing circles on Harvey’s shirt with his finger. Harvey’s absences were like short stretches of time that had felt like eternity, and he never wanted to experience them again. “I love you,” he whispered. “No more trips.”

“I love you too, kid,” Harvey breathed. “No more trips.”

 

 


End file.
